


Four

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Ron Weasley, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gay Harry Potter, Gay Sex, M/M, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Pregnancy sex, Sex, Smut, The Golden Trio, no harmonie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:40:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29155206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hermione is pregnant.  She’s not worried about telling Ron, but how will she break the news to Harry
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79
Collections: Ron's Chessboard Fest 2021





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, I just enjoy putting them in smutty situations.
> 
> Written for the Ron's Chessboard Fest 2021. Because we need more Golden Trio domestic fics in our lives. PLEASE read the tags before starting this fic. Although it's tagged Ron/Harry/Hermione, the sex is only between Ron/Harry & Ron/Hermione. I am not a fan of Harmonie and that will never change.
> 
> Thank you so much to my twin AC_Nelli for beta-ing this work for me.

**1**

Hermione woke to the gentle sound of the bedsprings creaking — once, twice — followed by a groan and a low guttural laugh. 

The sun was only just breaking through the bedroom window, and she watched the curtains dance in the morning breeze. Hermione had her back to them — her spot in the bed was always the furthest away from the door, a decision they were adamant in following. She supposed it was a throwback from their time on the Horcrux Hunt. But that was almost ten years ago now, and they were safe. 

But still, in the five years since they’d been a three it had always been this way.

Another groan brought her back to what was going on in their bed next to her.

_ The gits have started without me. _

The bedsprings creaked again, and one of them shushed the other with a laugh cut short. They were kissing now. Hermione squeezed her thighs together tightly as she thought of their lips pressed together, hard calloused hands pulling at each other’s hair. They were lazy when they kissed, letting their tongues roll over each other with wide-open mouths. They liked to take their time.

Eventually, she had enough, and she rolled over carefully, propping her head up on one hand as she watched Harry and Ron kiss each other in the bed next to her.

She would never get bored of this sight. Harry was lying on top of Ron, elbows resting either side of his head as he devoured his lover. Ron’s pale arms, freckled and scarred reached up, eventually disappearing into Harry’s wild, black hair. They were naked; the duvet already piled at the end of the bed as their hips pushed slowly against each other leisurely as if they had all the time in the world.

It wasn’t always this easy. Accepting Ron’s bisexuality had been one thing. Acting on it had been another. It had taken a lot of negotiations, back and forth, and the three of them had to learn to communicate in a way they’d never done before the war. But they had become a family long before they had become a three and having Harry in her life, and in her bed, had been something she surprisingly found easy to accept.

The biggest lesson she’d have to learn was that relationships were not just about sex, although it helped if you were okay to accept your boyfriend’s lover into your bed. It was about boundaries, communication, trust and most importantly, friendship and they had that aplenty. Slowly, and with tentative steps they had started living their lives as a three.

Hermione watched Harry shift, putting all his weight onto one arm and trailing his hand down Ron’s stomach. She’d had enough waiting; she wanted to get involved.

“You know, it’s highly unfair for you to wake up and start shagging without me…”

Ron tore his lips from Harry’s at the sound of Hermione’s voice, a huge smile erupting onto his face. He pushed the dark-haired man away from him roughly before shuffling closer to Hermione, his eyes dark with desire. Immediately, he started to press soft kisses against her slim neck. She closed her eyes, drawing in a sharp breath.

“We thought you would like the chance to catch up on your sleep m’love…” He slid a hand under the t-shirt she slept in and traced patterns down her side until he got to her hip. She felt his fingers dance along the bone. “You were so tired last night you could barely keep your eyes open through dinner. You’ve been working too hard…” He moved his kisses to her shoulder, using his nose to push the material of her top away so he could get at her skin.

“Yeah it was just going to be a quickie, and then we were going to wake you up, we promise…” Harry leaned over Ron to press a quick, chaste kiss against Hermione’s lips. Hermione loved that she and Harry had slowly grown affectionate towards each other like this — although they had both agreed that sex was off the cards, they still loved each other and seeing them kiss and cuddle made Ron happy.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. Since they were eleven, the two of them had been perfecting this double team act to get whatever they wanted from her. Checking their essays, brewing Polyjuice potion. Just a flash of their puppy dog eyes and she was like putty in their hands.

“Yeah, yeah… I don’t believe you! Neither of you has sex quickly. You like to take your sweet torturous time, and what was I supposed to do in the meantime?” She raised an eyebrow at them as she noticed Harry shift up to spoon against Ron, a hand creeping over his hip and to his stomach again.

“You could have just joined in…” Harry ran his fingers along that delightful trail of hair low on Ron’s stomach and pressed a single kiss just under his ear. “You don’t usually wait for an invite…”

“But I would have felt all left out. The two of you were pressed together so tightly, and there would have been no room; even for little old me. And I was so turned on…” Hermione gave the boys her sweetest pout, trailing her hand low over her stomach. For all their magical skills at getting their way with her, she had some tricks up her sleeve too.

“Aww, sweetheart…” Ron pouted back at her, and Hermione immediately knew she was going to get her way. “Do you want me to kiss it better?”

He didn’t wait for permission before moving back towards her. He dropped his lips to her neck again, starting to kiss at her skin as his hand joined hers, two fingers sliding between her folds. The pleasure was short-lived as a sudden wave of nausea travelled over her body. Hermione clamped one hand over her mouth, using the other to push Ron away from her before quickly climbing out of bed. She considered trying to make it to the large family bathroom down the hall, but she knew she wouldn’t get there in time. She resigned herself to the en-suite, shutting the door firmly behind her. She only just made it in time, throwing herself down onto the floor and emptying the entire contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl.

Eventually, the sickness stopped. Hermione flushed the toilet and wiped her mouth before climbing shakily off the floor. As she moved, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She opened the door, surprised to see both men waiting for her; dressed now in pyjamas. Ron was holding out her dressing gown, and she gratefully let him pull it over her arms.

“Are you okay?” They both had concerned looks on their faces, but it was Ron who wrapped his arms around her shoulder and led her back to bed. He tucked her in, right in the middle of their magically enlarged king-sized bed. “Do you want anything?”

“No, I’m fine…” She felt both boys sit either side of her. “I think I just need to sleep it off. You two carry on…”

Harry tutted. “We’re not going to have sex while you’re poorly ill in bed.” He smoothed her hair off her face as Ron took her hands. “Anyway, we have pick-up Quidditch in an hour or so, and we really should be getting ready for it…”

She pouted at them. Whilst she didn’t understand their love of Quidditch, she still loved turning up at their Saturday league games to cheer them on. “But I’ll miss your game…” She tried to get out of bed but felt herself getting woozy. As she lay back down, she felt tears appear in her eyes, although Hermione couldn’t tell you why she was crying.

“It’s okay…” Ron chuckled softly and tucked her back in. “You’re allowed to miss one or two. Why don’t you get some sleep and when we get back I’ll cook us your favourite dinner if you think you can keep it down…”

Hermione nodded and closed her eyes. She loved it when they teamed up to look after her. There were some benefits to having two men around the house.

The boys bustled around her as they got ready for their day, but she soon found herself drifting off to sleep. She missed the concerned looks, the unspoken words shared between Harry and Ron as they both reluctantly left for their game; Hermione not far from either of their minds.


	2. Two

**2**

The Saturday pick-up Quidditch league was an event that Harry and Ginny had set up when they had still been dating. It had developed into a full-blown tournament with a cup awarded at a Summer BBQ. The league contained mostly past House Quidditch players, but some professional players liked to join in every so often. Like Oliver Wood. It helped balance the field, as out of the five existing teams, only Ginny played professional Quidditch.

Despite Oliver being at the game today, Ron had been adamant he would play in goal. It was a position he felt comfortable in, and the man had retained some of his skills from his teen years. However, not even ten minutes into the game and Harry could tell that Ron was too distracted to be playing after he let Dean Thomas score for the fourth time against him. Harry bit back a swear as Ron just watched their old school friend push the Quaffle through the goal without any resistance.

So when Ron fell out of the sky, Harry wasn’t surprised. The bludger hadn’t been going very fast, and from what Harry could see it barely grazed Ron’s calf but from the way the man was wailing, you would have thought it had taken the leg clean off. Harry sighed and took his time to make his way back to the floor as the whistle signalling a pause in the game called out.

By the time Harry got to Ron, there was a small crowd of people surrounding him. He pushed through them before dropping to the floor. 

“You alright?”

“He’s fine. He’s faking it because your team is losing…” Ginny crossed her arms across her chest. “That bludger barely touched you, Ron!”

Harry resisted smiling. You could tell it was the off-season because she took these games far too seriously. 

Harry searched Ron’s face as his fingers slid to this boyfriend’s leg, searching for the injury. His blue eyes pleaded with him; so strong and piercing, he felt it like an icy arrow into his heart. 

Harry understood.

“Sorry folks, Ron is out for the rest of the game. We’ll have to call in Neville…” Harry gestured towards where the blonde was waiting, wrapped up tightly against the elements with his broom abandoned on the floor at his feet. Neville hated flying almost as much as Hermione, but he liked to join in, and as the goalkeeper, he would mostly be left alone.

The crowd dispersed as Ron sat up, and Harry captured his lips quickly.

“I know what you’re up to…” Harry smiled against his boyfriend’s kiss before pulling away. At least Ron had the decency to look confused by Harry’s accusation before visibly relaxing with a sigh.

“I tried to push her out of my head, but I hate the thought of her at home alone feeling sick.”

Harry felt his heart leap with love for Ron. It wasn’t easy loving two people, but Ron managed to be attentive to both of them without either of them feeling left out or jealous. Of course, Harry loved Hermione too; but their love was different.

“That’s okay. Why don’t you go home? I’m going to go to the pub after the game and give you two some alone time.” Ron started to protest, but Harry continued before he could get a word in. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m not good with vomit anyway. Do you want me to owl when I’m on my way home?”

Ron shook his head. “No, I’m going to force her to sleep for the rest of the day. She looked like hell earlier. Have fun, but try not to get too drunk, yeah?” He smirked, grabbing Harry for a harder kiss before the sound of the referee’s whistle signalled the game starting back up.

Harry kicked off with a sigh, soaring high above the field. He knew he should be keeping an eye out for the Snitch, but Harry found his thoughts drifting as he watched Ron pick up his broom and shuffle towards the changing rooms, swapping places with Neville.

Hermione once accused Ron of having an emotional range of a teaspoon, but truthfully, he was the most mature out of all three of them. He was so attuned to their thoughts and feelings. Ron knew, sometimes with just one glance, who needed comforting and who needed to be left alone. Ron was also the intermediary — he knew when he could push Hermione just a little in their arguments and hold Harry off if Ron thought he was taking things too far.

The game seemed to drag on for a lifetime, exasperated by Harry’s increasing concerns about Hermione. Unsurprisingly, Ginny’s team won when her seeker got to the Snitch before him. Dean’s influx of goals at the start of the game kept them ahead for the whole thing, although surprisingly, Neville managed to help keep that score low with Oliver’s side coaching. 

Harry followed his friends to the changing rooms and showered quickly, eager to get the rest of his day over with so he could get back to his family.

 _Family_.

It was something that felt so far out of Harry’s grasp when he was younger. It only took three months of him being at Hogwarts to realise that there was more in life than what he’d started with — an abusive aunt and her family who didn’t care much for him. Even at eleven years old, Ron and Hermione had helped those feelings grow into something more and Hogwarts, and their friendship quickly morphed into a family.

Of course, then that expanded further again with both the Weasleys and the Grangers adopting him as their own.

When Ron and Hermione invited Harry to join their relationship, he had been more than surprised. He had suppressed his romantic feelings for Ron for so long while they were growing up. With their announcement that Ron and Hermione were together not long after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry had resigned himself to suffering through the pains of unrequited love. 

Harry had been hesitant to take the leap, mostly because his feelings for Hermione were only platonic.

Harry chuckled as he remembered the first time they had made love as a three. Harry had seen Ron naked at least once a day since they lived together for most of their adolescent lives. But Harry had been torn between complete awkwardness and bursting into fits of giggles when Hermione had removed her top to reveal she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Luckily, Ron and Hermione had taught him that it was okay for him to laugh — that sex was supposed to be awkward, messy, clumsy and fun.

The after-game drinks seemed to rumble on for a lot longer than usual, and Harry wished there was a way of instantly getting hold of Ron to see how things were going. He guessed he could ask Hannah nicely if he could use her floo, but Ron deserved the time to look after Hermione without Harry intruding. Harry nursed a pint of beer until the sky turned dark, then hurriedly said goodbye to everyone.

When Harry apparated into the hallway, he knew something was up. The house was dark apart from the trail of bluebell jars set out along the floor. He hung his coat up quickly, his keen Auror instincts prickling. It was too quiet — the building was usually a cacophony of noise. Hermione liked to listen to music whilst she worked in her upstairs study, and Ron would counteract that by ensuring the muggle TV in the living room was on full volume. But now, he could hear nothing.

He pulled his wand from its holster and carefully followed the trail down the hallway. He cast his eyes into each room as he passed it, but there were no signs of Ron and Hermione. Eventually, he got to the large open plan kitchen dining room; his favourite place in the whole house. Harry had quickly become the designated chef in the family, so he had designed this room himself. He made use of the fact it backed on to the garden and turned it into a sanctuary, full of comfortable surfaces and spaces where they could cook and socialise. Their friends were often over for dinner, and the house had slowly become the party house.

The trail of bluebell flames led him through the kitchen and to where Hermione and Ron were sitting waiting for him. Ron had a huge smile plastered on his face, but Hermione was wringing her hands nervously. Harry crossed the room quickly and dropped to his knees in front of them, one hand automatically resting on Ron’s thigh.

“What’s all this about? You two are not proposing to me, are you?” His heart sped up at the thought of it.

Hermione scoffed, although it was not a mean sound. “You know we agreed that marriage wasn’t for us…”

“Then what’s going on?” Harry interrupted her, not worrying if he sounded rude. He supposed that was the benefit of being with them for so long; the usual pleasantries went out the window. He searched both of their faces, desperate to know what was going on. He still wasn’t used to surprises, and his harsh upbringing made him feel automatically paranoid when someone was doing something nice for him. 

Immediately he thought back to Hermione’s sickness this morning, his stomach plummeting as he steadied himself for the bad news.

Ron started to speak, but Harry noticed Hermione cutting him off quickly. She slid her hand to Harry’s, picking it up from Ron’s leg and linking her fingers with his tightly.

“Before I tell you, you have to know that I love you so much…” She was as pale as she’d been this morning and was chewing her lip so hard; she was starting to draw blood. Harry could see her eyes were red — she had been crying recently. His stomach took another precarious leap, and it took all his self-control to maintain eye contact with her. He didn’t like that she had removed his contact with Ron, so Harry slid his other hand to take Ron’s, not gaining any assurance from his gentle squeeze.

“Okay, Hermione. You’re scaring me now. Are you okay?!” Harry’s voice wavered, but he did nothing to hide how terrified he was. There would be no point in that, the pair saw right through him anyway.

“ _We_ both love you so much, and nothing is going to change between us, okay?” She seemed to be expecting a response from Harry, but he could do nothing more than nod his head at her. Hermione took this as a sign and continued, using her spare hand to wipe her eyes. “I made Ron go out and buy me a test. I took five of them. I’m pregnant…”

The news stunned Harry, and he sat back on his heels, pulling his hands from Hermione and Ron’s. He could feel his lips shifting to form an ‘O’ as he struggled to process it.

They were pregnant; expecting a child that wouldn’t be a part of him.

His mind raced, and he felt like he was on autopilot as he pushed himself up from the floor. He walked out of the room without saying a word and followed the same trail of bluebell flames to the hallway. He veered left this time and took the stairs to their bedroom, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Neither of them attempted to follow him, and Harry was grateful for that. He needed space to compose his thoughts. He took his time, trying to steady his breathing as he processed the information — not caring how long it took him. When he felt ready, he ventured to his side of the wardrobe, digging deep into the back for it for a bag. He finally got his hands on it and pulled it out before heading back downstairs.

Ron and Hermione got to their feet as soon as Harry reappeared, worry etched across their faces. Harry could kick himself for being the cause of their anguish. He still struggled sometimes to let them in, to talk to them about his feelings — always preferring to shut himself out and deal with things by himself. He needed to get better at that, especially now.

He walked towards them, ignoring their questions. He needed to speak to them before he lost his nerve.

“Please sit down…” It wasn’t a command, but they reacted instantly. He waited for them to take their seats before kneeling back in front of them. He didn’t take their hands this time.

“S-since I was young I yearned for a family of my own.” Harry felt his voice breaking with emotion, and he took a steadying breath. “Hogwarts quickly became my home, but that was because of you two. When you invited me into your relationship, it was more than I could expect. We’ve been a family for the past ten or more years, I guess.”

He wiped his eyes with a shaky hand and saw Ron glance at Hermione. Harry followed his gaze — she was now crying freely.

“What I guess I’m trying to say is that we’re still a family. This baby is half Ron and half of you, Hermione…” He turned more towards her now, taking one of her hands into both of his. He let his thumb graze the back of her hand comfortingly. “If it’s okay with you, Hermione, I would like to be a part of its life too. I love it so much already, and I want to be its Dad too if you’ll have me…”

There was a moment where Harry worried he had said the wrong thing. Maybe he’d been too presumptuous in thinking they’d readily accept him into their little family unit. He started to move away, but Hermione’s firm grip held him in place. She seemed to be considering him closely, so Harry was surprised when she pushed herself off the sofa and wrapped her arms around him so tightly, he was thrown from his kneeling position and onto his backside. He pulled her firmly onto his lap, one hand snaking between them to rest against her stomach. 

Not wanting to be left out, Ron dropped to the floor too, and Harry felt him enveloping them both in his long arms. It was one of the things he loved most about Ron — his love and his arms were big enough for the both of them.

It took a while for them to untangle themselves, but Ron waited until both Hermione and Harry had finished crying before breaking away, staring down at Harry.

“So what was all that noise upstairs? I thought you might have been packing or something?”

Harry frowned for a moment, trying to work out what Ron was on about before letting out a laugh.

“I noticed you two were getting a little bit lax with contraception a year or so ago. I thought maybe this might have happened a little sooner, in all honesty.” He felt a guilty look cross his face as he passed Hermione the bag and watched her unwrap it carefully. Her face erupted into a massive smile as she held up the tiny babygrow, emblazoned with the Gryffindor crest on the front. She flipped it over, a loud laugh escaping her lips.

“Seriously, Harry?!”

Harry had “Potter #7” printed on the back of the grow — the number he had worn during his Gryffindor Quidditch days. Harry felt a cocky grin appear on his face.

“I’ve got to make some mark on the baby. You know it’s going to come out with thick red curls and quoting ‘ _Hogwarts: A History’_. This way, people will know the baby is part - “

Harry was interrupted by Ron leaning forward, pressing a hard kiss against Harry’s lips. He grinned against them, kissing him back eagerly as he felt Hermione’s hand slip over his shoulder and squeeze it firmly. He couldn’t wait to move on to the next stage of their relationship together.


	3. Three

**3**

Ron’s foot tapped a nervous rhythm on the linoleum floor, a habit that had started early in his childhood and he hadn’t been able to quit. It carried on until Hermione let out a small sigh, and Harry pressed his hand on Ron’s thigh, calming him down. He could feel Harry’s thumb softly stroking the denim material covering his inner thigh, in a move that would usually turn him on. This time, Ron found it just comforting.

Hermione had been adamant about seeing a muggle doctor — she called it a _guy-na-colour-gist_ — about anything related to the pregnancy. It had caused many arguments between the three of them. Ron was adamant that the healers at St. Mungos were the safest place for his girlfriend and new baby, but Hermione wanted to do things properly, in the hope her mother could be a part of it too. Somehow, the clever witch had managed to get Harry on her side, and suddenly Ron was outnumbered. He relinquished, reluctantly, with the promise that at the first side of something _magical_ going wrong they would go straight to the healers.

There were some downsides to being a part of a three.

The gynaecologist soon called Hermione for her appointment. Ron rose to his feet with her, a hand placed protectively at the small of her back. Harry stayed seated, and Ron turned to him with a frown on his face.

“Aren’t you coming?” Ron held a hand out to his boyfriend.

“Are you sure you want me there?” The black-haired man didn’t lift his eyes, and Ron wondered if he was worried about the answer. He couldn’t help but let a laugh escape his lips.

“Come on, Harry; you don’t get to claim you want to be a dad, then miss all the fun stuff like the scans!” Ron held out his hand more insistently, his heart calming down as Harry took it and stood up.

The three of them were used to people staring. Even before they became a triad, the ghosts of their fame hounded them. It was undeserved, they thought, and thus, they had tried to live quiet lives. They’d rather stay out of the limelight. The stares from the other occupants of the waiting room were different, more curious about the unusual relationship dynamic in front of them. To give them something to look at, Ron kissed Harry firmly on the lips before doing the same with Hermione. There used to be a time when this would force a blush of nerves onto Ron’s face, but not anymore. He was used to loving two people publicly by now.

Muggle technology still astounded Ron. He marvelled at the sort of things they had invented to make their lives easier. The scan the sonographer was now performing on Hermione was one of these. Ron crowded the small screen as the probe was pressed against Hermione’s flat stomach, trying his best to spot the baby among the dark lines of her womb.

“Are you sure that’s an actual baby?” He quickly turned his head to glance at Hermione and Harry before directing it back to the screen, unable to keep his eyes off it. “It looks like an alien!”

“We wouldn’t know mate. Your head is blocking the screen!” Harry’s tone was pleasant enough, but Ron knew he should move or be in trouble. The tips of his ears turned pink as the sonographer laughed, and Ron reluctantly stepped away from the screen to take the spare seat next to Hermione’s bed. Harry had a tight grip on her hand and, not to be outdone, Ron placed his hand over both of theirs, giving them a firm squeeze. He tried to pay attention as the sonographer pointed out the baby’s details, wanting to be sure he could relay it to his parents later when he showed them the picture. It would completely astound his dad.

They left the unit a short while later, the prints of the scan clutched firmly in Ron’s hands. He was full of questions _‘how did the scan work, why can’t magic replicate that sort of view, what did wizards or witches have instead’_. Of course, they had developed magical ways of monitoring a baby’s development, but nothing came close to the detail you could see in the muggle scan.

“You’re as bad as your dad, you know?” Hermione smiled as they got onto the escalator that led down to the underground. “All of these questions about muggle things, it's quite exhausting!”

“There used to be a time you encouraged me to ask questions!” Ron grinned back. “I just want to know all that we can!”

Harry let out a groan as they waited for their train, causing the pair of them to stop their bickering and turn towards him. “You just had to say it, didn’t you?!”

“Say what?” Ron frowned at Harry, tightening his grip on the boy.

“ _‘I just want to know all that we can’”_ Harry mimicked, kindly. “You know what that means, don’t you?” He nodded at Hermione, whose eyes had lit up.

“Books!” She grinned at the boys then checked the tube map behind them. “Good job we’re on the right line for Oxford Street…”

Ron groaned too and rested his head against Harry’s as Hermione started to put together a list of what they might need. Suddenly, he wasn’t feeling as enthusiastic about learning.

~*~

Hermione’s pregnancy progressed well, her nausea stopping once she moved into the second trimester. Unfortunately, this correlated with Ron and Harry’s workload in the Auror department increasing, forcing them both out of the house more than they’d like. Where once work was essential to the three of them, their priorities were quickly changing. They wanted to be home with Hermione, making sure she was okay and looked after properly. They didn’t want to miss any vital stage in the baby’s development.

They relished in the rare Saturday mornings where neither of them was assigned a shift. The Auror Department staff coveted the extra weekend shifts as they often came with double or triple pay for unsociable hours. But Harry and Ron found themselves turning them down where they could. They didn’t need the extra money anyway, and they were happy to let their younger colleagues take the hours.

Ron was fast asleep, his arms fixed firmly around Harry and his body curved around the smaller man’s as their head rested on the same pillow. Harry was more cuddly than Hermione, and especially now she was pregnant, Hermione desired her own space in the bed. She found sleeping attached to someone difficult, and she liked to have more than her fair share of the duvet. 

He was having a lovely dream, in which he was playing Keeper for the Chudley Cannons when he felt someone pull at his arm, calling his name persistently. He mistook it for the crowds in the stands at first, but as he started to come to he realised it was Hermione.

“Ron, Harry. Wake up!” She pulled harder at his arm, and he grumbled, stirring just enough to settle himself closer to Harry, who didn’t even move. Ron felt her shake his shoulder, and he begrudgingly forced his eyes open.

“What ‘mione? ‘M tired…” A loud yawn escaped his lips, emphasising the point.

He didn’t have to look at her to know she had her eyebrows raised and he peered past Harry’s shoulder to look at her. She was standing at the side of the bed, the hand not pulling at his on her hip. She seemed to push the thought of arguing with him from the tip of her tongue, replacing it with a smile.

“I think I’m showing…” She pulled at his arm again.

“That’s awesome, sweetheart.” He closed his eyes again, a smile drifting over his face.

“Don’t you want to see?” She was pouting now; he could hear it in the tone of her voice as Harry started to stir too.

“Isn’t there a chance we could see after 9 am, Hermione?” Harry squinted at the large alarm clock on the side of the bed.

“Come on, you two!” Hermione whined, slowly forcing them into a sitting position.

“Okay, okay… let us see!” Ron rubbed at his eyes, sitting up properly before lazily pulling Harry back towards his chest.

Hermione clapped her hands excitedly, happy to get her way. She passed Harry his glasses as he reached for them before stepping back from their side of the bed.

“Okay…” She started to roll up her top, and Ron noticed she was already showered and dressed for the day. In all of the books she had forced them to read, it was clear that pregnant women sometimes suffered from low energy. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to be atypical. Even before the sickness stopped, she still hopped from task to task, taking on more work in her busy office job with Magical Law Enforcement. Ron and Harry had tried to get her to slow down, but there was no telling her.

He couldn’t help but let a low chuckle escape his lips as Hermione tucked the t-shirt into the bottom of her bra and pushed her stomach out as far as it would go.

“You look as skinny as ever!” He glanced at Harry, who had a wide grin on his face.

“You don’t see it?” Hermione’s shoulders dropped in disappointment.

“I’ve been conditioned to tell all women that they look skinny!” Ron carded his hands through Harry’s bed hair, trying his best to look nonchalant.

“Ron! Harry!” Hermione frowned and stomped her foot in frustration with them before climbing onto the bed. “Tell me I’m fat!”

Both men regarded her closely as she plonked herself down on top of their intertwined legs, her top still rolled up and showing her bare stomach.

“I don’t know mate…” Harry lifted his head to smirk up at Ron. “Is it worth the risk? Feels like she’s setting you a trap…”

“Just me? She’ll hex you just as hard just to get to me.”

“Oh well, that’s fine then.” Hermione crossed her arms across her chest in an epic strop. “I’ll just take our baby, head downstairs and make me and it breakfast and you two can just shut up!” 

Hermione started to climb off them, but Ron wrapped his spare arm around her waist, bringing her tumbling back to the bed. Suddenly two sets of hands were travelling over her body, joining at her small bump.

“You’re fat!” Ron held his lips so close to Hermione’s; he could smell her peppermint toothpaste. “So fat already, you’ll be huge by the time you get to 40 weeks!” 

Before she could protest, he captured her lips in a hard kiss as Harry’s fingers tangled with his on Hermione’s tiny tummy. He made sure to shower enough attention on Hermione before turning his head to kiss Harry, leaving her to catch her breath in their laps.

At the start, Ron found it quite arduous to have two lovers. He was always worried he was lavishing more attention on the other. Ron was already in an established relationship with Hermione, whereas Ron and Harry were new and a little more exciting (at least at the start). Slowly, he learnt how to split his time evenly, and he had to admit it helped when they’d gotten over the awkwardness of having sex _together_.

Harry let out a content moan against Ron’s lips, and Ron felt it vibrating down his body to his cock. The man had a unique way of making Ron feel wanted; he was more physical than Hermione and harder in many ways. He deepened the kisses as Hermione started to remove her top, knowing full well the direction this was going in.

Ron shared his lips between Harry and Hermione as Harry pushed the duvet to the floor, and Ron worked on removing the rest of Hermione’s clothes. Once she was naked, Ron put his attention entirely on her as he laid her back on the bed, lavishing kisses along her body. It didn’t take long for her to start moaning loudly, her hormones — heightened by pregnancy — put every one of her senses on edge.

Ron took one of her nipples into his mouth, smirking as she arched her back to press her chest closer to his. As he devoured Hermione’s breast, Ron felt Harry’s tongue on his nipple, mirroring his lover’s actions. Harry’s hands crept to Ron’s waist, removing his boxers with a swift tug.

They shifted position in bed so that Ron was lying on his back with Hermione and Harry pressed into his sides. Ron closed his eyes as he felt a warm mouth on his cock, unable to tell who it was until he felt Hermione’s lips attacking him again, her curls tickling his face.

He let his head drop back as Harry and Hermione took turns to ravish him. They pushed him to the edge more than once, moving away teasingly to stop him from exploding too soon. Before long, he couldn’t take it anymore and knew he had to regain control of the situation.

“I need you _both_ now…” Ron pushed himself from the bed, leaving Hermione to laze on the bed. Harry took the hint and grabbed his wand from the bedside table as Ron settled himself on all fours, his arse presented for Harry. He heard his boyfriend commit the lubrication charm then slide a finger into him. It caused Ron’s erection to twitch, and he let out a low, guttural groan.

“ _Now_ , you git! Stop teasing me!” He could just picture the shite-eating grin on Harry’s face as he pushed forward, sliding himself fully into him. He almost called out in pleasure, but Hermione’s lips were already back on his as she moved under him.

“You sure it’ll be okay? I won’t squash the baby?” Ron glanced down at her as she settled on the bed under his arms. She couldn’t have looked more beautiful as her wild curly hair fanned out on the pillows. She shook her head once, her eyes full of emotion.

“I think we’ll be okay…” She looped her arms around him and pulled Ron down. It didn’t take long for him to find his way, sliding into her with ease. Harry waited patiently for the couple to adjust before continuing his thrusts.

Ron often wished he could have an out of body experience during moments like this to see how beautiful the three of them looked. Ron steadily thrust inside Hermione as Harry moved in rhythm with them; the three of them connected in a way that not many others would understand.

Harry took control of the situation, driving the speed of their throupling. Ron and Hermione were a mess under him. Every time Harry thrust deeper into Ron, it forced Ron to sink further into Hermione.

Ron felt his orgasm build first, and he moaned a warning to his lovers. He slid a hand to Hermione’s centre, circling that tight bundle of nerves and groaning as he felt her body react to him. They came together, in a way that was so perfect — something that only five years of practice could bring.

Hermione was the first to untangle herself from their dogpile, and her skin still flushed from her orgasm. “I guess I better go shower again…” She smirked back at Harry and Ron as they shifted to cuddle. “I’m hungry, and I fully expect the two of you to feed me after that…” 

She leaned over the bed to kiss them both then walked naked to the bathroom, rubbing her side as she moved.

~*~

Later that morning, once they had finished breakfast and were full of coffee (decaffeinated for Hermione), Ron led Hermione and Harry back upstairs.

“Before we get ready for Quidditch, I want to show you something!” He dragged the pair of them into the spare room they had previously reserved for storing their junk and boxes they never got around to unpack. He looped an arm around both Harry and Hermione’s waists and pulled them into his sides.

“So I think this room should be the nursery. What do you think?” He kissed the top of Hermione’s head first, then Harry’s. “It’s next to our room and the furthest away from the study.”

“We don’t have to think about this yet, Ron. We have at least five months…” Hermione smiled anyway, and Ron knew he was right to bring it up. She loved a plan.

“That’s true! But if you’re showing, then I thought it might be nice to start measuring your bump, so we have something to keep to show the baby when he’s here with us!”

“Or she…” Harry interrupted.

“The baby can be whatever they want!” Hermione smirked back, the playful banter well practised by now.

“Well, whatever it is.” Ron grinned and let go of them, starting to dig through a box. He located an old roll of wallpaper that they had bought when they had first planned to turn this room into a second guest room. A section of paper tore itself from the roll and attached itself to the wall with a tap of his wand. He found a marker and uncapped it.

“Come on then Granger, step up!”

It was awkward at first, with Harry wanting to get involved but eventually the pair of them managed to draw the slight curve of Hermione’s stomach onto the paper stuck on the wall along with the number on the measuring tape. They stepped away to admire their work.

The tradition continued every Saturday, a line of curves steadily growing across the wall. Hermione got big quickly, and she mostly blamed Harry and the rest of the Weasleys for the tasty food they fed her. Despite her initial energy, Hermione seemed to get more tired as her third trimester progressed. She waddled from task to task, and sometimes, she had to stop on the way to sit down for a few minutes and close her eyes.

Baby Rose Weasley was born precisely on the day she was due, at the Barkantine Birth Centre assisted by Ron and Harry. They had contemplated giving her a double-barreled surname, but they couldn’t decide which one to give her, and it seemed cruel to provide the girl with three. Rose Weasley seemed to fit. She was born with a head of fiery red hair and a temper to suit. 

The three parents couldn’t be prouder.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, if you enjoyed please let me know.


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